


All While You Were Sleeping

by JamtheDingus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Mistletoe, Photography, Snow, so much snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:12:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: Hunk grapples for his camera, quickly flipping through the various albums until he found Shiro's picture. It was just as radiant as Shiro had looked in real time. "It was a beautiful moment— and you looked just...stunning."He reaches to pass the camera along, though his explanations and excuses die on his tongue when he realizes that Shiro isblushingat him, red painting from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.Shiro licks at his lips, and Hunk shivers despite being warmed up by the heater. "You really think that?""Um." Hunk says. Probably one of his most eloquent moments, if he were being honest. He turns away, nervously laughing that dorky laugh that sounds like he was going through puberty all over again. "Always." He confesses, softly.





	All While You Were Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/gifts).



> why no of course i didn't choose that title because it came from a song with the word 'photograph' in it.... who do you take me for....
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS BOSS!!!! you vaguely know of me but i wanted to make you something for christmas because i love your writing very much and idk,,,, wanted to spread the love!! :D
> 
> hope you enjoy this very random very cutesy au i made up! <3 merry christmas AND happy birthday!!!

Moonlight catches on the lens of his camera, momentarily blinding Hunk out of his stupor. It wasn't midnight yet but he was _dead_ tired, especially tugging along his messenger bag full of everything he needed for his camera. His case, an extra lens, a cleaning cloth. Hell, he even brought _props_ , including a few rushed paper snowflakes that he could just throw on a tree and take a few pictures of at a weird angle. His professor would probably guess it would have something to do with the juxtaposition of real versus fake, if he got the lighting just right.

But it didn't sit well in the pit of Hunk's stomach to do that. It felt like _cheating_ in some backwards way, and Hunk never liked cheating. It made him feel _bad_.

And so that's why he's stuck wandering the suburbs at night, long after the young kids of the neighborhood have been put to bed. Hunk wasn't expecting to see anyone until he stumbled back home and saw Pidge and Lance sprawled out on the couch, knocked out from their cliche movie monster marathon. It was a strange tradition— especially considering it was almost _Christmas_ and not Halloween— but Hunk couldn't say he was spending his night any better.

So of course it comes as a startling surprise when he comes across Shiro, suddenly.

He's standing off center in the sidewalk, as if he were about to step off into the street but got distracted in the process. His head is tilted up to the sky, illuminated by the snowflakes that drift around him like dozens of stars that got trapped in the stratosphere before they inevitably drizzle down onto the Earth, only to get caught in Shiro's orbit. His eyes are shut and snowy white dusts his eyelashes in the artificial light of the street lamp, old and creaking.

Shiro has one hand in his pocket, to fend off the cold he seems to be simultaneously reveling in. The other is shiny even in the dark though the metal is probably frozen solid. He holds it out, palm stretched up, to catch tiny flurries that pile up into an unmelting mound in his hand.

His hair, an unusual combination of white and black, is pleasantly relaxed in the cool air. The tuft in the front has grown out over the break from college and he has it swept away from his eyes, tucked in towards his ear. The back of his head, shaved close to the scalp, is dusted in a fine layer of frost. All together every hint of snow that dusts him shows that he must have been standing there for a long while.

He has a strangely serene look on his face, pleased and content and longing and mournful all at once. The longer Hunk stares, the more his heart breaks for no reason at all. The snow banks around Shiro fade into the backdrop, adding to the living portrait he painted. There was not a single footprint etched into the blanket of snow, as if Shiro had been dropped from nowhere to bask in the cold glory. A literal snow angel.

Hunk, holding his breath, lifts his camera. It's an entirely sudden, unconscious decision that he doesn't realize he's acting upon until the soft clicking of the shutter echoes through the empty road, startling them both.

Shiro's eyes flutter open, jostling the delicate snowflakes off of his lashes. His eyes, a tempest of grey, recognize Hunk immediately and the oxymoronic scene shuffles forward to something more familiar. Shiro shifts towards him, a permissive, albeit confused, expression on his face as he waves away the pile of snow that had grown on his hand, wiping his palm clean against the cotton of his sweatpants.

"Hey," He greets, soft and quiet in the muted peace of the desolate street. He rubs at the back of his neck, a self conscious gesture, and soon all of the snow and frost that had accumulated on him is gone, as if it were all a hazy memory. "I must have looked pretty silly here, standing out in the middle of the night trying to catch a cold, huh?" He laughs, and Hunk jolts as he realizes that his actions may have been taken the wrong way. Taking a picture of someone without warning was generally an impolite thing to do, after all.

Hunk steps forward, mouth opening in a quick apology and an explanation, when the icy layer over the snow ever so conveniently decides not to crunch under his weight. Instead it allows him to slide across the slippery surface, and he goes sprawling backwards.

The air is shoved out of his lungs and he is dazed, but thankfully uninjured thanks to the soft snowbank that protected his fall. He hears Shiro step towards him, and has only just started to push himself up when Lady Luck decides she hates him. A bird startles out of a tree branch for no reason at all, and the resulting vibration through the wood sends a precariously balanced layer of thick, fresh snow powder raining down on him.

And after that first branch is cleared, most follow soon after. Just to be mean, probably.

It's about an awkward ten seconds before his burial stops.

At least his prison is soft.

He can hear more than feel Shiro digging him out, and the latter is breathlessly _laughing_ at him by the time he's free. Hunk shivers, melted snow soaking into his collar, and Shiro wordlessly— if laughing doesn't count as words— tugs him towards the front door.

Hunk is startled again to realize that Shiro had been standing directly on his front lawn, and Hunk must have just wandered over by habit. Huh.

"I'll go get you something to warm up with." Shiro offers, tugging off his thin jacket. He seems unbothered by the cold as the heat of his living room washes over them, and he hangs up Hunk's scarf to dry. Snowflakes drip off of the end, soaking into the wood floor. "Want some hot chocolate?"

Hunk dusts his camera clean with his sleeve. " _Please_. I might die of hypothermia."

Shiro looks like he has a joke for that, but it gets lost on his tongue as he turns towards the kitchen.

The two were no strangers, which is why Hunk wasn't embarrassed out of his mind when he's left alone in Shiro's foyer. Instead he makes his way to the living room, plopping onto the soft cushions of the pleather couch as if they were his own. They'd been over each other's house so much that it _felt_ as comfortable as his own.

Shiro comes out of the kitchen tugging a space heater behind him like a child's red wagon. He slaps it down in front of Hunk's toes and fiddles with a few buttons before an orgasmic heat is seeping into their skin.

"There we go." Shiro claps his hands free of dust, pleased. The thing obviously hadn't been used in a long while.

"I appreciate it." Hunk says as Shiro ducks back towards the kitchen, and the response he gets is a dismissive wave; a silent, 'Don't even mention it.'

As Hunk sinks into the couch cushions, watching as the final bits of snow soak into his hoodie, he surveys the living room. It seems most of the house is undecorated, though there's a fairy light or two in the window. There's no Christmas tree or stockings, and the entire living room is as neat and tidy as a home magazine would advertise. Something unused and meant for show.

"Where's Keith?" Hunk asks when Shiro returns with two mugs filled to the brim with hot chocolate. There are two plump marshmallows floating in the middle, surrounded by half-melted whipped cream, and Hunk takes a bite of one of those before he sips at the warm chocolate.

He suppresses a grimace as he realizes it's made with water and not milk, but he deals with it. To each their own, of course— and especially so on holidays. He'd just have to treat Shiro to some deliciously milky hot cocoa when he visited the next time.

"He went out for the night." Shiro shrugs, and mist billows out in front of his face as he speaks from the side of his mug. "He'll probably be back by four in the morning."

Well, if Shiro isn't worried about it, then neither is Hunk. Instead, he takes a silent sip of the chocolate, smacking his lips together. Despite it not being made the way Hunk would make, it's still pretty good.

"So, what were you doing out there? Besides taking pictures and getting attacked by snow." Shiro says, all teasing tones.

Hunk fumbles with his cup, nearly spilling the _hot_ hot chocolate all over himself. He quickly sets it on the tea table to prevent further accidents. "I'm so sorry about that. I just... you looked so hypnotic that I kind of got caught up in the moment." Hunk grapples for his camera, quickly flipping through the various albums until he found Shiro's picture. It was just as radiant as Shiro had looked in real time. "It was a beautiful moment— and you looked just... _stunning_."

He reaches to pass the camera along, though his explanations and excuses die on his tongue when he realizes that Shiro is _blushing_ at him, red painting from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

Shiro licks at his lips, and Hunk shivers despite being warmed up by the heater. "You really think that?"

"Um." Hunk says. Probably one of his most eloquent moments, if he were being honest. He turns away, nervously laughing that dorky laugh that sounds like he was going through puberty all over again. "Always." He confesses, softly.

Shiro looks like he wants to say something, before he shakes his head and stands up. "Hold on a minute."

He disappears down the hall, and Hunk kind of wants to bury himself back in the snow outside. Instead, he buries himself in the mound of melted marshmallow in his hot chocolate.

Shiro returns shortly, a long box hooked under his arm. It's wrapped in two layers too many of wrapping paper, and three bows are stacked in a row across the front, despite the recommended 'one'.

When he passes it to Hunk, the latter can see a ribbon has been tied around the box like a postal package, with perfectly coiled ends that wrap together like tight ringlets of curly curls that could rival Shirley Temple's.

He runs his fingers appreciatively against the plastic, embellished and engraved in glitter that probably wouldn't be coming out of his clothes for years.

"This is mine?"

Shiro ducks his head down. "Yeah. I tried my best so don't tease, but..." He shakes his head, dismissing the rest of his sentence. "Merry Christmas."

Hunk feels across the wrapping paper one last time before he digs his nails into it and opens his present. Inside is a scarf, pleasantly soft and thick. And obviously handmade from the uneven fringe at the bottom edges and the way the pattern didn't quite match up all the way through as Hunk lifted it up to the light. It so obviously took a lot of time and love, with the complicated design around the border that must have taken _hours_ with knitting needles, and Hunk quickly blinks away the hot tears that sting the corner of his eyes.

"Shiro, this is _beautiful_." He breathes, quickly wrapping it around his neck. It's even softer against his skin there, and he melts into it. "How long did this take you?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you like it." Shiro looks infinitely pleased that Hunk enjoyed the present, both of his palms coming to press against the warm outside of his mug.

They sit like that for a brief second, basking in the warmth of each other when Hunk startles, sitting up straight.

"Can I take another picture of you? As a present." Shiro looks vaguely confused, so Hunk grabs for his camera again. He shows Shiro the picture he'd taken, having been interrupted before, and the latter's breath catches in his throat as he takes it in. "I should've asked permission before taking it, so... now I am."

Shiro is still flushed, though he's getting redder by the second as he seems _flabbergasted_ that the being in the photo is actually him. He chews on his bottom lip, running his thumb across the screen to zoom in before he shakes his head to clear it.

"Sure," He says, leaning back against the couch again as he hands off the camera. "You can take another one. As long as you send me them."

"Of course." Hunk agrees, readily. He kind of wanted to show it off to every person in the _world_ , but that might be a big step— seeing as Shiro was already a camera-shy person.

Shiro crosses an arm across his belly, just because he doesn't know where else to put it as he looks directly into the lens. His mouth wobbles, as if he's not sure if he should smile or not, and it just brings attention to his lips.

His expression is marvelously open. Vulnerable, in the privacy the two of them shared. Hunk waits a heartbeat, until Shiro blinks once. The shutter clicks, and that unguarded look is immortalized in his memory card.

Shiro slides over, until their sides are pressed together as Hunk clicks through the pictures to show him the results. As it slowly loads onto the screen, he looks just as amazed as he was at the last one.

"You're great at this." He awes, and Hunk lets him take the camera so that he could stare at it as close as he wishes. "I can't even believe I look like this."

"You do." Hunk says, quickly. "Especially when it's us two, in private. I can take more, if you like." He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, gesturing wildly in his nervous excitement. "As a thanks for the scarf."

Hunk touches the soft yarn again, careful not to fray it as he passes his fingers across the stitching at the bottom. Just from touch, he thinks its his own initials he feels, but he'll have to investigate at another time.

Shiro gets a strange look on his face as Hunk rambles on. "If I had known you were going to give me this, I would've brought my present for you."

It takes a moment for it to register in Hunk's mind. He looks _guilty_ , all of a sudden. Shiro sets the cup down next to Hunk's on the table and rubs at the back of his neck again, a nervous tick he'd had for as long as Hunk could remember knowing him.

"I actually wasn't planning on seeing you until _after_ Christmas." He confesses. "Until after New Year's, probably. But I guess now is as good a time as any."

Shiro straightens his spine, then, and an air of confidence floats around him as he meets Hunk's gaze dead on. "I like you." He confesses, loud and clear. "In a romantic sense. I wasn't going to try acting on the feelings until after the new year started." He deflates with another breathless laugh. "'New year, new me', yeah? It sounds silly when I say it out loud."

"No, I—" It's Hunk's turn to turn red as Rudolph's nose. He seems at a lost for words at the sudden confession, but in a good way that sends a hopeful spark through Shiro's heart.

"Are you... accepting, or rejecting?" He asks, hesitantly. "I don't want this to ruin our friendship."

"I'm _definitely_ not rejecting." Hunk says, so quickly that he speaks over Shiro. "I, just— give me a minute here, man." He buries his face in his hands, overwhelmed.  Shiro can hear him chuckling under his breath, and he quickly cracks a smile when Hunk peeks up at him between his fingers. "You're serious?"

"Very serious."

Hunk runs his hands through his bangs, sitting up again. He isn't wearing his headband— something Shiro had failed to notice until just now. Hunk turns himself so that he's facing Shiro full on, instead of sitting properly on the couch. He tosses one of his arms across the back of it, leaning forward so that they were more face-to-face.

"Well... let's not make it sound like a business deal, then." Hunk offers his palm to Shiro, who gladly takes it. He smiles, presses a kiss against his knuckles, and tugs Shiro closer so they can wrap each other in a hug. "I like you." He confesses, against the edge of Shiro's ear.

Shiro feels his mouth twitch up, and he buries his face against the curve of Hunk's shoulder. "I like you, too."

"Boyfriends?"

Shiro hums, as if he were contemplating it. Hunk huffs, clearly unamused, and Shiro's subsequent laugh sounds more like a happy sigh. "Boyfriends." He confirms, confident as ever. 

They stay embracing for a long few minutes, letting their cocoa grow cold. For some reason, Hunk glances up, and he jolts as he realizes that directly over their heads is a sprig of mistletoe taped to the ceiling.

He laughs, incredulous, pulling back to bring Shiro's attention to it. "Did... how did you get that up there?"

"What?" Shiro squints at the mistletoe. Then, he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing heavy. " _Lance_."

Hunk didn't want to know the story behind that, so he didn't even ask. Instead...

"Well, we can't just shun tradition, can we?" Hunk grins— tender more than anything.

Shiro taps against his chin, mulling over the offer in his brain. "Mm, I guess we can't. Just wouldn't be right." He hooks his arm around Hunk and dips him backwards, surprising them both with his enthusiasm.

Their first kiss tastes like peppermint hot chocolate— but the second, third, and fourth taste a _lot_ like whipped cream.

**Author's Note:**

> not pictured: shiro practiced that confession in the mirror like a million times beforehand and he still wasnt ready
> 
> @everyone make sure you give boss some love at her blog [@bosstoaster](http://bosstoaster.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!! 
> 
> hope you enjoyed!! M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S (eve)


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